Looking
by peppermint quartz
Summary: Grimmjow is caught looking. Grimmjow/Ilforte, mentions of Aizen/Gin.


**A/N: Grimmjow/Ilforte, because one is so bloody manly and the other too damn handsome. **

**Usual disclaimers apply – BLEACH and its characters are not mine, and that's just so darn sad, ain't it?**

**Takes place after SS arc, before HM arc. Mentions of Aizen/Gin (duh), voyeurism and threesomes. Oh, and BL mentions all over the place, because it's me writing it. Hope you like it :)**

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"You're looking," said a deep, husky voice right behind Grimmjow.

Startled, Grimmjow turned. Aizen Sousuke leaned on the wall in the way his lover Ichimaru Gin often did, an amused gleam in his warm brown eyes. The bathrobe the overlord had tied on was loose and revealed a good portion of the broad chest marked with little red marks.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Grimmjow snarled. He stalked off slowly, even though he hated showing his back to a threatening presence. He was still useful, so Aizen wouldn't waste him yet. Not yet.

But he had been caught looking.

Grimmjow cursed under his breath. Even with his senses he was still unable to tell when Aizen appeared close by, which only heightened the idea that Grimmjow was weak. And Grimmjow hated being thought weak, least of all by himself. Yet, in this case, he was weak. Helpless. He could only watch and, now that he had been caught, he couldn't even watch anymore.

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In the privacy of his own room Grimmjow scrubbed the unmasked part of his face. He felt like screaming, or tearing someone apart - preferably Aizen or Ichimaru or even Ulquiorra - or dealing out some heavy duty pain.

He settled for pacing.

A soft voice emerged from the darkness near the entryway. "Grimmjow-sama?"

"Idiot. I told you to call me Grimm when we're alone." The teal-haired Espada didn't react as a slim figure entered the room and locked the door. "You're okay?"

"They don't hurt me, Grimm," said Ilforte as he turned on the light. Still wrapped in a dark indigo robe, Ilforte had his pale golden hair tied back and Grimmjow could see the marks Ichimaru and Aizen had left on his Fraccion's neck.

Grimmjow growled and stood up. "You mean you really are alright with this shit?"

"Grimm," Ilforte's tenor voice was firm and serious, "we agreed to it together. Fair trade. And they don't hurt me."

Grimmjow ran his large hands over the reddened marks and pulled his favored into his arms roughly. Burying his face into the pale golden hair, Grimmjow wondered how long of this arrangement he could take before he went crazy and attacked Aizen and Ichimaru both.

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The 'arrangement' had been a deal worked out between Grimmjow, his followers and Aizen. The bastard had asked for the service of one of the Fraccion for Ichimaru. In return, Grimmjow's followers were turned before the other Espadas' fraccions, as well as receive the honor of the freedom to kill in Las Noches. That had been the honor of only the Espada and the three shinigami at first.

Shawlong discussed it with Grimmjow, and the rest of Grimmjow's followers had thought it was a fair bargain. The temptation of power was too alluring for them to give up, and Grimmjow had given in despite his misgivings.

No one had known that Ilforte would turn out so handsome. Despite Syazel's claims to the contrary, the beauty in their shared heritage had gone to Ilforte while the power had mostly been concentrated in the pink-haired fey arrancar. It didn't matter to Grimmjow that Ilforte was weaker than Syazel, because Ilforte was devoted and loyal to a fault.

Even when the 'service' Aizen had indicated prior meant 'be a fuck-toy for Gin and myself', Ilforte hadn't complained at all.

Grimmjow's Fraccion knew Ilforte was Grimmjow's favorite and none of them contested that place. The first time the two shinigami had bedded Ilforte, it took Shawlong, D-Roy, Edorad and Nakim to hold him down, before Syazel came in and assisted them in restraining Grimmjow. The next morning Grimmjow had locked everyone out of his quarters, save for Ilforte, and had taken half a day to reassure himself that Ilforte hadn't been hurt by the two overlords. It had taken Ilforte another day to calm Grimmjow down from the murderous mood he was in before the rest unlocked the main door to Grimmjow's spacious quarters.

All of Grimmjow's fraccion teased Ilforte for being the one Grimmjow favored above them all, but Ilforte knew Grimmjow liked everyone, in his glowering, 'you are a bastard for not becoming stronger' way. They were all brothers in serving Grimmjow's goal, and they would ensure he reached the top. Even if they had to place themselves at the feet of others to do it, none would complain.

If Ilforte's place in the group was to warm Grimmjow's bed, then he would take it without complaint either.

He had pledged himself to the Sixth Espada so many years ago, after all.

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Like any other powerful men, Grimmjow was possessive over what should be irredeemably his. And now that privilege was usurped by a slender, fox-faced, unreadable shinigami and a brown-haired megalomaniac. They knew what only he should know – the smoothness of Ilforte's skin, the scent of Ilforte's arousal, the planes and curves of Ilforte's body, the music of Ilforte's voice.

It infuriated him, because he could do nothing about it.

As he did nothing just now before Aizen caught him looking.

As if aware of his lord's angry ruminations, Ilforte came over and kissed Grimmjow deeply. He was sore and tired, even after the healing bath he had taken, but Ilforte would serve. He would serve Grimmjow in every way possible, even if it meant that their overlords could take their pleasure of his body.

It didn't matter at all to Ilforte – he knew whom his heart (if he had a heart, since that was where his hollow hole was) belonged to. Somehow Ichimaru knew of this devotion and _that _had secured the tender treatment in Ichimaru's hands. Ilforte didn't mind being a bedwarmer for the overlords partially because he knew Ichimaru was equally devoted to pleasing Aizen.

Call it empathy. Or perhaps commiseration.

Grimmjow nuzzled into the blond's neck, fury slightly abated by Ilforte's soothing voice murmuring assurances. If there was a way to raise Ilforte's standing in Las Noches, Grimmjow would find it, but the blond's potential had been fulfilled and there was no more space for growth.

"They weren't too rough this time, were they?" the teal-haired Espada growled in a low rumble.

"No, Grimm. He was gentle." Ilforte smiled when Grimmjow grunted while the large hands prodded various sensitive spots, reassuring himself. "And only Ichimaru tonight, Grimm. Aizen-sama just watched."

"That sick bastard." The Espada pulled away, eyes dark with repressed rage. Ilforte ran fingers lightly over the bone mask, then slid his fingers under it. Instantly the tight, furrowed brow relaxed and a hint of a smile appeared on Grimmjow's face. It was Ilforte's privilege, to touch Grimmjow so intimately.

But Grimmjow wasn't about to be diverted. "One day they will pay for what they do to you, Ilforte."

"I _told _you it doesn't matter-"

"I told _you _it is a matter of pride." The Espada crushed Ilforte closer to his muscular, hard body. "They will pay."

"As you say, Grimm. As you say." Ilforte rested his head on Grimmjow's shoulder. He was tired. "Where are our brothers?"

"Hunting."

Ilforte turned to nuzzle into Grimmjow's neck. "You didn't join them?"

"I returned early." Grimmjow wondered if he should mention himself spying earlier, but put the thought out of his mind. Ilforte was still a proud member of Grimmjow's cadre, and the Espada would make sure his fraccion would rise above all others.

Ilforte sighed, his cool breath a balm on Grimmjow's skin.

Ulquiorra was out with Yammi, studying some lame-ass shinigami or other crap. Nnoitra was, no doubt, spending time outside with Tesla. Zommari was in the meditation room, down the South wing. Syazel would be in his lab. And Aizen and Gin had already had their fun.

"Ilforte?" Grimmjow hesitated.

The blond looked up at Grimmjow. The Espada looked concerned but there was also rising lust gleaming in the teal irises. Ilforte smiled. "I can take it," he replied to Grimmjow's unasked question. "I can take anything you dole out to me."

Eager and ready, Grimmjow growled low in his throat. "Good. Mine."

_Just a while longer, Aizen. Your throne will be mine. Just a while longer_

_I have a promise to keep._


End file.
